Pizza Perfecto
by CowMow
Summary: Sherlock is bored and decides to make a pizza. John is bored and wants tea. Mrs. Hudson wants neither but changes her mind. Based on YT-vid. Part two in my Domestic Sherlock-series. Part one is titled Time for Tea. Links and WARNINGS! inside. Please read!


_**Pizza Perfecto**_

Part two in my series of _Domestic Sherlock_, after **_Time for Tea_**. I suggest you read that too (preferably first), otherwise you will not understand completely. Link: **/s/8095030/1/bTime_b_for_bTea_b**

Again, based on a vid I found on YT. Link: **/watch?v=S5qUMK-TzOg&feature=BFa&list=UUR4s1DE9J4DHzZYXMltSMAg**

**Author:** CowMow

**Parings**: John/Tea, Sherlock/Baking, violent!Mrs. Hudson/Pizza

**Warnings**: Food. Mrs. Hudson. Bored John. Un-Beta'ed.

I don't own anything. Not even the pizza.

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

**16.34**

John. SH

**16.35**

John. SH

**16.35**

Sherlock.

**16**.**35**

John. SH

**16.35**

Yes, Sherlock, what is it?

**16.35**

I'm bored. SH

**16.37**

No ideas for experiments then?

...

...

**18.12**

John, I need you to do something for me. SH

**18.20**

What is it, Sherlock?

**18.20**

I need flour, tomato sauce, four eggs, milk and mushrooms. I'll pay you back. SH

**18.20**

Oh. What are you going to do with that?

**18.22**

Experiment. Don't be dull John. SH

**18.30**

I'm getting them. Will I like this one?

**18.30**

I am sure you will, John. SH

**18.50**

Are you going to bake a pizza or something?

John grinned as he put his mobile phone back into his pocket. Where Sherlock needed that stuff was a mystery to him, but well... if the great Sherlock Holmes paid for it himself, who was John Watson to complain?

His phone chimed and with a sigh did John fish it out of his pocket again. For a bored man Sherlock was rather active. His eyes widened when he read the message his flatmate sent him.

**18.51**

Yes. Now hurry up. SH

John decided not to answer to that and just go home to get it over with. Well, we cannot blame our dear John, now can we? Well, there was no way he could know.

Let's go back in time and investigate why Sherlock wants to make a pizza as an experiment.

Sherlock had been on a case. A woman had been murdered by her cook, who left a cooling pizza in the oven. Sherlock had always liked pizzas since when he was a kid, but somehow the idea of eating a pizza from a murderer didn't do wonders to his appetite. So he went home and sat down on the couch, thinking.

He came to the conclusion that there were three things that he could do.

* * *

1: go to Angelo's, order a pizza and eat it there.

Pros: it was nice, cheap and there would be a candle on the table.

Cons: He had to get up from the couch and take a cab to the restaurant.

Conclusion: idea dismissed.

* * *

2: he could order a pizza.

Pros: he didn't have to take a cab, it was nice and not very expensive.

Cons: he would have to leave the couch TWICE, once to get his phone and once to open the door because Mrs. H. wasn't at home.

Conclusion: idea dismissed.

* * *

3: he could make a pizza himself.

Pros: self-made pizzas always tasted better, it was very cheap and he wouldn't have to leave the couch twice, but only once.

Cons: he didn't know how. But he did have his laptop close by.

Conclusion: idea accepted.

* * *

So Sherlock grabbed his laptop and tried to find a useful guide to help him make a Pizza for him and his blogger. John always appreciated food, so Sherlock was fairly sure John would love his pizza. Besides, Sherlock knew that everything he did he did well, so he knew he could pull this whole experiment off very well.

And on top of that, who could resist Mushrooms?

* * *

John left Tesco's without having a row with the chip and pin-machine and he couldn't help but gloat about that little fact. He happily walked back home, almost forgetting Sherlock was in his experimenting mood.

Only when he had opened the door and climbed the stairs, and Sherlock waited for him in the door opening, did he realise what might be going to happen. Now.

With trembling hands he handed Sherlock the bag with groceries.

"Rest assured, John," Sherlock said, turning around, his red dressing gown fluttering behind him as he stalked over to the kitchen. "Last time I made you something you seemed to adore it."

John licked his lips at the memory. "Yeah. That tea was lovely."

Sherlock spun around and faced his friend. "Did you bring milk?"

John shook his head sadly. "They didn't have any. It appeared the cats' home needed all the milk Tesco had. There will be more tomorrow. Stupid cats. I hate cats." He slumped over to the couch and dropped in it heavily.

Sherlock happily dumped the bag on the kitchen table, amidst microscopes, petridishes, Bunsen burners and Erlenmeyer flasks. He opened the bag and stuck his nose in deep.

"Wonderful!" he exclaimed, retrieving his nose from the bag and looking excitedly over at John. He frowned. John looked sad. "Is there something wrong?"

John shrugged. "I had hoped we had some milk left for you to make some tea."

Sherlock pursed his lips deep in thought. Suddenly he beamed as he appeared to have made up an idea. "What day is it?"

"Friday," John answered flabbily.

"How about I make you a pizza now, and tomorrow I will make tea and pizza and cake and sandwiches? There is this brilliant man on the internet who has uploaded these so-called 'vids' in which he explains how to make the most basic things. It's quick, clean and very effective. I haven't tried the pizza yet, but the tea worked out extremely well. What do you think?"

John just shrugged. Sherlock's enthusiasm didn't rub off on him. At all.

"Come on John! It'll be fun!"

John shrugged again.

"Here, let me show you!" Sherlock ran away to his bedroom and fished a tray from under his bed. He dusted it off quickly, decided it looked clean enough and walked back to the kitchen.

Sherlock grabbed the pack of flour, and placed it at the tray. He spun around and fished an empty Erlenmeyer from between the mess at the table, checked if it was clean, was satisfied, and placed it beside the pack of flour.

He ripped it open and poured half of the flour in the flask. He picked up the flask and held it under the tap.

John just watched it with heavy eye-lids.

"Well," Sherlock rattled, "This man also uploaded a vid about how to turn on a tap but I haven't had time to watch that one. So apologies if I did it erroneously." He poured enough water in the flask to drown a fish and was satisfied with the result.

He showed it proudly to John, but he didn't get a reaction. Sherlock didn't remark on it and just sloshed and swirled the flask until all the flour had mixed with the water.

He threw the Erlenmeyer in the sink, and swept the sloughy dough together on a heap and placed that in the middle of the tray. He flattened it a bit and added the other half of the flour.

"Sherlock?" John whined from over at the sofa.

"Yes, John?" Sherlock answered cheerily.

"Are you sure you are doing it the way it should?"

Sherlock shot John an indignant look and kneaded the dough together until it had reached the right stiffness. He looked at it and smiled.

He curled his fingers in a fist and smashed the dough until it was flattened and round, just the way he wanted it to be.

Suddenly some knocking was heard over at the door.

"Coocoo! Are my boys okay?" Mrs. Hudson peeped her head around the door.

"Perfectly so, Mrs. Hudson," Sherlock answered. "I'm making a pizza. Can I invite you to dinner in half an hour?"

Mrs. Hudson looked bewildered at the flattened piece of dough on the tray. Then she forced a smile. "Of course, dear boy, of course." Mrs. Hudson's head disappeared and she ran down the stairs.

Sherlock ducked inside the plastic bag again and lifted the bottle of tomato sauce gingerly from between the other groceries. He plopped the cap from the bottle and held it upside-down and squeezed.

Its red content spurted out of it onto the pizza bottom until that lay ready for the next ingredient.

Sherlock squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until his head was flushed from exertion and the bottle empty.

"Good!" he panted, his chest heaving from the force he had practiced on the poor empty bottle.

"Then the next ingredient: eggs. Let's see… where are they?" He ripped the bag, because sticking his head in all the time was boring, and retrieved four egss, which he gingerly placed right in the middle of the tomato sauce.

He admired the result from afar and stepped closer again to place the mushrooms in a perfect circle around the four eggs.

Then he searched the bag for the cheese, but he found none. "John? Where did you put the cheese?"

"I didn't buy any," John unenergetically answered.

Sherlock looked at his flatmate and found he was lying on his back on the floor, while his legs rested on the couch.

"What are you doing, John?" Sherlock asked, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm… so… booooooored," John whined. "I want tea and I want it now."

"Don't be so immature and childish, John!" Sherlock scolded, before returning his attention to the pizza.

"Hmmm…" he murmured. "I do need some cheese. MRS HUDSON!" he suddenly yelled. "I need some cheese!"

He heard the soft but hurried footsteps from his landlady, who didn't appear much later at his doorstep with a bag of rasped cheese in her hand.

"Here you go, dear," she cooed while walking over at the table. "That looks really nice!" she said, approvingly. "Where did you learn to do that?"

Sherlock practically glowed with pleasure from the compliment. "Internet!" he announced proudly.

"Well, good luck. I'll get changed then. I'll be here in twenty minutes, if that's okay with you." Mrs. Hudson wanted to leave the room, but froze in het movements when she spotted John in his rather unusual position at the couch. "What's wrong with John?" she whispered softly in Sherlock's ear.

"He's bored and wants some tea, but I'm out of milk," Sherlock explained, whispering too.

"Oh poor boy!" Mrs. Hudson said softly. A little louder she said to John, "How about I make you a cuppa, dear?"

John lifted his head an inch from the floor and glared and squinted at his landlady. "I don't want your stinking, poisonous, failed, miserable attempt at something the British dare to call tea!" John bellowed before closing his eyes and letting his head hitting the ground with a faint thud.

Mrs. Hudson paled. Sherlock patted her back in what he hoped to be a comforting way. She quickly left, fighting back her tears.

"John?" Sherlock demanded John's attention. "John, look at me."

John half-opened his eyes and looked at his flatmate.

"You go after her, and apologise." Sherlock folded his arms across his chest.

"Apologise?" John repeated incredulously, lifting his head again.

"Yes. That was rude and unnecessary."

"Oh, I envy you so much…" John mumbled and closed his eyes again.

"What? You envy ME?"

"Yes. You've never tasted that tea. I NEED TEA!"

"I CAN'T MAKE any, JOHN!" Sherlock cried in desperation. "I'll finish this pizza for you and afterwards fetch some milk so I can make tea for you, oaky?"

"Tesco was out of milk."

"I'm sure Mycroft can arrange something for us." For Sherlock, the conversation had ended and he returned back to his experiment. Carefully he opened the package of cheese; after all, Sherlock couldn't come up with a reason to mistreat food.

He sprinkled some cheese over the eggs and mushrooms, criticised it and decided to throw all the cheese on top of it.

He threw the empty package in the bin and looked at his handiwork approvingly. He slowly curled his fingers in a fist again, and landed it fiercely on top of the eggs and mushrooms and cheese, and again and again until nothing was left in one piece.

He wiped his hands clean on John's (hopefully) discarded jumper and looked again at his pizza. He grunted.

"What's wrooooong…?" John asked, still whining.

"I added the cheese before I smashed everything, while the cheese should have been on top of it all!" Sherlock almost sobbed.

"I'm sure it'll taste good," John assured his friend, not believing himself for a moment there and not taking the effort of masking his feelings.

"Okay!" Sherlock beamed again, blindly believing his friend completely.

He opened the oven and placed his pizza in there, timing it to 15 minutes.

He closed the door and sank through his knees until his backside hit the ground. He stared straight into the oven, watching the dough begin to bake and the cheese to melt.

After fifteen minutes, Mrs. Hudson entered Baker Street 221B, only to be greeted by a very nice smell and a very happy consulting detective.

She sat down at the laid table and smiled at her tenants. "It smells delicious, Sherlock!" she praised while she clapped her hands.

Sherlock accepted the compliments with a gracious bow and offered her a piece. "John?" he asked. "Are you coming too?"

A very deep and very dramatic sigh came from the living room, and slowly but surely did the shuffling footsteps come closer.

John slumped in the chair opposite Mrs. Hudson and unwillingly accepted the piece of the pizza his flatmate offered. Sherlock stood by and watched impatiently until both of his guests had taken a bite.

Mrs. Hudson chewed pensively, and when she had swallowed her first piece, she opened her mouth wider and stuffed her face, all of her piece of pizza disappearing inside her mouth in one go.

Sherlock grin grew broader.

John had a similar reaction to his piece.

"That was amazing!" Mrs. Hudson exclaimed. "I need that recipe!"

"I'll send it to you. I trust you have e-mail?"

"No." Mrs. Hudson almost sobbed. "I need the recipe!"

"Ah, Mrs. Hudson," John suddenly comforted the elder lady. "Mrs. Turner has a computer, hasn't she? I'm sure she will print it for you!"

Mrs. Hudson's tears quickly dried when Sherlock offered her and John another piece. He served himself too, and then only one slice was left.

All three diners glared at the other, not willing to grant it to the other.

Suddenly Mrs. Hudson lunged forwards, knocking Sherlock from his chair and pushing the table in John's stomach.

"HA!" she whooped, kicking her fist in the air victoriously. 'I win! I WIN!" She grabbed the piece and gingerly took a bit, thoroughly savouring the taste and texture.

"Sherlock, I will lower the rent, but only if you make this to me every Friday."

"That's a deal, Mrs. H," Sherlock said. "Now I need to go and get some milk."

He stood and walked towards the door to get his coat.

"Sherlock?" John called after him.

"Yes John?"

"Don't forget the eggs, flour, cheese and mushrooms, please."

"I won't."

"Oh, and Sherlock?"

"Yes?"

"I'll pay."

_**FIN**_


End file.
